Quietest day

Joining H. T. Darrow’s July challenge - Day 11: hiking

Pulling on her second shoe with a sigh, she rested her forehead on her knee and closed her eyes.

Hiking was literally the last thing she wanted to do, but it was important to someone she loved, so it was important to her.

“Everything you needed from the shop is on the counter,” she told her daughter tying her laces, “and if you could turn on the oven at four and pop the pasta bake in, that would be awesome.”

“Yep, I can do that.” Her daughter replied, looking up from her phone. She kissed the teen’s head, “Thanks. Love you, kiddo. See you in a bit.”

Driving to the trail, they listened to music, laughed and talked like they used to. She relished just being. He was driving, she could look at how the grass had greened with the recent rain and the dams were filled to the brim, water so still a perfect replica of the surroundings was painted atop of them.

Happy calves skipped and played. It felt like forever since she’d been free to notice.

For a moment, her mind could stop.

Her phone buzzed, an email from school needed to be checked for times of tomorrow’s excursion. She rubbed the bridge of her nose before pressing her thumb and finger into the corners of her eyes until splotches appeared in the darkness. ‘It’s on the calendar, but I’m pretty sure you have to be there at 6am.’ She texted back.

The tension started rising again. A single car ride where she didn’t have to be highly focused, or fielding constant questions and demands for attention wasn’t going to cut it. Finally, the back-and-forth ended and she could try to relax again.

They’d decided on an easier, shorter track due to how long it had been since the last time they’d hiked. The sun, high in the sky warmed the air.

Her legs felt heavy, roots growing out of her soles tethering her to the ground. The energy she needed for this had been expended well before they got here.

Clenching her jaw and gritting her teeth she dug deep, determined to draw from whatever source she could to get through.

If she wanted quality time and the chance to talk without as many interruptions, this was how she would get it.

“Mmm, no, we can’t go visit on Sunday, Bailey has work this weekend. We did talk about it.” She reminded him again whilst fielding a text about socks.

Mentally, she took note that she’d have to check in a few days that he’d told his mum they couldn’t make it.

They walked in silence for a time, she enjoyed the sound of the gravel crunching beneath their feet— it seemed to quiet the angry buzzing she always had in her mind.

Her ear rang from the silence, normally the pressure of constant chatter and demands of “mum, hey! Mum!” made it feel like they might bleed at any moment.

Her heart hurt from the guilt and sadness of being stretched so thin that there was little of her to offer anyone. But, whatever she did have was demanded and taken until she was hollow.

In this setting, the echos of how hard it all had gotten sat heavily in her lower belly. She wasn’t feeling the zaps of overwhelming or the skin crawling of overstimulation, but she could feel how they sat there waiting. Ready.

Rounding the last soft bend, they came to the top of the cliff looking out at the ocean as she finished a call with her dad.

He toed the boundary she had put in place just weeks ago. Testing. “He still didn’t ask how I was.” She said with a sigh.

“Next time we will have to go somewhere without reception,” he answered, watching the waves crashing onto the jagged rocks below.

Glancing at her watch she realised it had taken the longer than expected. “On that note,” she said rolling her eyes and raising her phone to her ear.

“Hey, kiddo, we’re going to be back later than I thought. Don’t wait for us, we will eat when we get home.”

“Oh, shit!” Came the response. “I forgot. Maybe you guys can pick us something up?”

Her body buzzed, a million angry bees zooming through her, every last bit of energy and patience gone.

She was done asking, pleading, talking, explaining. Done hoping that one day someone would care enough.

Looking at the waves again, she stepped out.

Maybe, she would fly.